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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24232777">Can't Let Them Know</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandering_rain/pseuds/wandering_rain'>wandering_rain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Dystopia, Future, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Torture, Psychic Abilities, Rebellion, Slow Burn, Soldiers, Supernatural Elements, Superpowers, Technology</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:02:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24232777</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandering_rain/pseuds/wandering_rain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Deon Archambault is a soldier in a world that discriminates against those with abilities, superpowers that make the impossible possible. A world where technology is hailed as king. </p>
<p>The government brands these ability users as heretics, sparing no effort in capturing them and confining them to harsh conditioning facilities. Deon works for such a facility, his purpose to twist the ability users into perfect soldier puppets for the military consuming most of his youth.</p>
<p>Only, how far is he willing to go to hide his secret?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Male Character &amp; Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Can't Let Them Know</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>How it all began.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A Song To Enjoy<br/>Spotify:<br/>https://open.spotify.com/track/3h34cQPPddk4x9cluPIAvv?si=hdDoDdKyRFuWRirY-3o_6g<br/>Youtube:<br/>https://youtu.be/Vrqrh2A2Di8<br/>Soundcloud:<br/>https://soundcloud.com/user-332169300/day6-zombie-english-ver-the-book-of-us-the-demon-1</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The steel doors leading to Officer Stronzo's office towered over him, fluorescent lights of the corridor beating down on his uniform-clad form.</p><p>
There were no guards in sight, the automated surveillance cameras and multiple identity verification devices eliminating any need for it. The additional risk of an information leak was unnecessary.
</p><p>Deon was grateful for this brief respite, however, for it allowed him the opportunity to compose himself, to paint on a mask of indifference with the skill of an artisan.</p><p>Aldrick Stronzo was a bloodthirsty vulture, had always been, cruelty pumping through his veins like second nature. And now that Deon had been promoted, he simply could not afford the luxury of failure. </p><p>
Here in the facility, incompetence meant death. Anyone naive enough to air their weaknesses might as well down a vial of lethal poison and get it over with.</p><p>Standing in the face recognition device’s range, Deon pressed a pale hand against the biometric scanner. He strode into the room, ignoring the way stark white walls transformed into a realm of luxury. The doors hissed shut behind him with a resounding thud, and a familiar wash of foreboding flooded his senses.</p><p>Stronzo was perched upon an office chair, the polished leather throne gleaming softly. Looking up from the holographic document projected on the desk upon Deon's arrival, his slanted, panther-like eyes swept over him. Deon raised his right arm in the customary salute and bowed deeply, waiting for his orders.</p><p>“You may rise,” the raspy sound scraped against Deon's eardrums.</p><p>Deon unfolded himself with practiced ease and reported, "Deon Archambault, at your service, sir."</p><p>Silence caged the room.</p><p>"Do you know why I've summoned you here today?" Stronzo finally asked, the edge in his tone slicing through the air.</p><p>Even a moron could hear the underlying expectation veiling the question. "There has been talk of a new arrival from the rebels…" Deon admitted.</p><p>That predatory look consuming his gaunt features dimmed slightly, and Deon knew he had passed the test. For now, at least. It was only thanks to the rigorous conditioning bestowed upon him that Deon managed to keep his face blank as Stronzo twisted his thin lips in a grotesque imitation of a smile.</p><p>"Then you know what to do. Don't disappoint me. "</p><p> </p>
<hr class="hr"/><p> </p><p>Deon observed the new arrival through the glass panel. Eyes shut, the prisoner shivered uncontrollably against the metal-reinforced floor. Heavy restraints hugged his gangly limbs and a mouth guard obstructed most of his face, but even then Deon could tell that he was young, in his early twenties.</p><p>Crushing the little seed of guilt before it could bear its greedy claws at him, he gestured for his unit of soldiers to guard the door and entered the cell alone.
</p>
<p>As if on cue, the rebel jolted awake, hatred gleaming in his dark eyes. Right away, Deon’s portable ability detector went off in his pocket, the black disc vibrating violently.</p><p>This forewarning meant that Deon wasn’t particularly surprised when he felt a supernatural pressure crushing his skull. That and the fact that he had been expecting the rebel to fight back.</p><p>
It was about time for the ability suppressants to wear off, anyway, and he had had too much experience with similar acts of defiance to be caught off guard by a little headache, even if he had been a member of the unit back then instead of its leader. As such, he instantly recognized the vicious worms invading his mind as the rebel’s ability. <em>A telepath</em>.</p><p>He pounced the moment he realised this, there was no room for hesitation. A syringe of suppressant drugs with a strong paralytic mixed in and a well placed injection at the forearm later, Deon had the rebel lying motionless on the ground. The pale blue chemical had done its job, taking effect immediately, and Deon no longer sensed the foreign presence pushing into his head.</p><p>Standard protocol dictated that he dish out some type of physical punishment, leave him to rot until he could take no more. But, Deon had read the files, knew that despite his apparent youth, the new arrival played a key role in the rebellion movement the higher-ups had been trying to disseminate. He knew that what they really wanted was information, their burning need for knowledge against the rebellion replacing the usual motive of military might.</p><p>Deon decided that it would be more productive to commence an initial screening before taking any administrative measures. It would be much easier for the rebel to slip up when he hadn't had enough time to think things through. </p><p>
He unlocked the front panel of the mouthguard, the remaining metal frame supporting the rebel's jaw and ridding him of any ability to harm himself.</p><p>"You fuckers ain't getting anything out of me! I hope you burn in hell, you piece of shit!" the rebel spat out before Deon even had the chance to say anything. 

</p>
<p>At least, that's what Deon assumed he said. The mouthguard made understanding him a challenging feat.</p><p>"Resisting will do you no good, Zeke Droit." Deon noted the way the rebel tensed at the name, muscles taut.</p><p>"We have the rest of your acquaintances chained up too. You wouldn't want them to face any...unfavourable consequences, would you?" A lie.</p><p>The fire in the rebel's eyes roared to a raging inferno and he hissed, drool spilling out of his mouth, "You are lying!"</p><p>Deon molded his lips to a cold smile, sprinkling in just the right amount of perverse amusement in his voice.</p><p>"Am I?"</p><p>He locked the mouth guard back in its place and left the rebel to stew in his thoughts, his soldiers trailing behind him with stone-faced expressions.</p><p> </p>
<hr class="hr"/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Blood, there was blood everywhere.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Drip.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The boy struggled.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Drip.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Incompetent.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Drip.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'll never let you break me!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Drip.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The white cell reeked of metal.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Drip.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A miscalculation.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Drip.</em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr class="hr"/><p> </p><p>Deon snapped his eyes open, forcing himself not to jolt up. He commanded his traitorous body to cease shivering, staring up at the ceiling blankly. 

</p>
<p>He couldn't let anyone know.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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